The Downside of Being a Narrator
by Wravyn
Summary: Mad crazy nonsense written in response to a challenge. Fun with Spike and abuse of the powers of Narration. Hehehe.


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**Disclaimer:** Not mine, unfortunately. Oh how unfortunately! The things I'd do with Spike if he were mine...

**Author's Note: **Another blast from the past. 1999 again, written for what I believe is the now defunct Krazy Kult mailing list. Experimentation with the Almighty Narrator writing style peppered with a little but of good, clean Spike-loving fun.

Old readers, voila! New readers...enjoy!

_Words in indicate thoughts._

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** The Downside of Being a Narrator**  
by _Wravyn_  
  
  
  
  
[Cue lightning, thunder, bats. Lotsa bats.]

_ It was a dark and stormy night..._  
  
Nonono, wait. Scratch that. Okay, so it's not exactly a stormy night. A little breezy, maybe, and hey, it did rain the night before, so does that count? But anyway, it was dark. Is. The sky was (_is!_) as black as... soot? Licorice? Shoe polish? _Wait,_ it's not actually that dark, so maybe I should think up another simile? Dark as...umm..dark as...ah, forget it.   
  
Sheesh! This Narrating stuff is harder than I thought!  
  
_ A lone figure stalks the streets of Sunnydale, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his black duster. It's the big, bad, British vampire. The one and only Spike._

[Cue wind.]  
  
_ The wind howls eerily, causing the infamous duster to swirl around the brooding Spike. He glances up, seeming almost startled by something and looks around with a wary expression on his face. The thin light of the moon reflects off of his chiseled face; his prominent cheekbones, his sensuous lips, his..._  
  
"Ahem."  
  
_...his..._  
  
"AHEM."  
  
_Huh? __What?_  
  
"If you could stop swooning over me for a minute, pet..."  
  
_ Who, me?_  
  
Spike looks amused. "Do you see anyone else around?"  
  
_ Um... no, actually. But why are you talking to _me_? I'm the narrator! You're not even supposed to know I'm here!_ _ Dammit, am I doing this wrong AGAIN? > I'm supposed to be omni... umm..._  
  
"Omnipresent? Omniscient? Omnivorous?"  
  
_ Omnivorous?_  
  
"I just threw that one in." He grins rakishly.

_Be still, my heart. _

_ Oh._  
  
His face becomes serious, and he looks up at (me?) with a slight frown creasing his brow.  
  
"Pet..."  
  
_ (Swoon!) Yes, Spike?_  
  
"I don't brood."  
  
_ Huh?_  
  
"The wind howls eerily, causing the infamous duster to swirl around the brooding Spike."  
  
_ Oh, I'm SORRY! I didn't mean to make you like Angel or anything with the whole brooding thing..._  
  
"I don't ALWAYS brood! And there's nothing wrong with being like me!" Angel steps out of the shadows, an indignant look on his handsome face.  
  
_ HEY! I didn't say that! Where did Angel come from?_  
  
"What in the bloody hell are you doing in MY story, peaches?" growls Spike, advancing menacingly.  
  
"Making your life miserable as usual," smirks the so-called Peaches.

_Hey._

"I'll pound your face into the cement, you little..."  
  
"Who are you calling little, Thumbelina?"

_Hey!_

"Why you...!"  
  
_ HEY! HEY GUYS!!!! I'm still here!_  
  
Both look up at me _(!!!)_ apologetically.  
  
"Sorry luv," mumbles Spike. "It's all Peaches' fault, here." He punches Angel's arm non-too gently.  
  
Angel shoves him back roughly. "What? You were the one who..."  
  
_ Guys. GUYS! Please. Act your age._

_ Ooh! That was a good one! Gotta write that down for later . . . >_

"Sorry, Wravyn," they chorus together perfectly, and I can't help but smile at my little vampires.  
  
_ It's all right. Now Angel, you know this is Spike's story, so you can't really be barging in like this!_  
  
"But you made me sound like a whiny little brat!" he says petulantly.  
  
Spike laughs.  
  
_ Angel, dear, humor me for a sec while I explain. I only meant that the dark and moody vampire persona is yours and yours alone...and that I didn't mean to accidentally use the word for describing Spike cause...well, he's not broody._  
  
"Damn right! Only pansy-types like this anti-vamp Sire of mine here...ow! Bloody hell."  
  
Angel nurses his hand. "But..."  
  
_ Brooding's not bad._  
  
At this, his face lights up like a little boy's. _ (Angel as a little boy...heehee!)_ "Really?"  
  
_ Well...sometimes. It gets a bit much sometimes._  
  
A snicker. "Tell him it's annoying as hell ALL the time, pet. That'll shut him up!"  
  
Angel knocks Spike off his feet and onto the damp grass in one smooth movement without taking his eyes off of me _ (wherever THAT is!)_ "Do I brood too much?" he asks anxiously.  
  
_ Um... sort of...but you've gotten better, really, you have!_  
  
He frowns in dissatisfaction.  
  
_ Clock...time...class...crap. Dammit, my time as Almighty Narrator is running out! >_

_Angel . . . come on. I'll Narrate a fic for you later if you just let me finish Spike's story!_  
  
"Okay..." he pouts, and disappears again into the shadows.

_ Mmm...nice ass. Ahem. Now where's... _

_Oh, Spike..._  
  
"Crap. My head is ringing like an alarm clock." The vamp in question groans and sits up rubbing his poor, bruised head tentatively. "Bloody wanker...thinks he can just..."  
  
_ An alarm clock?_  
  
"Look, I didn't write these lines, pet."  
  
_ Oh...right. Sorry._  
  
He sighs. "Can we just get on with it?" He stands up and dusts himself off, sweeping away the stray bits of grass that were sticking to his duster.  
  
_ His infamous duster . . . (giggle) >_   
  
_ Ahem. So, where was I?_  
  
"The wind howls eerily..."  
  
_ Thanks. The wind howls eerily, causing the infamous duster to swirl around the...er... to swirl around Spike's...legs? That doesn't sound right._  
  
He sighs again, but keeps walking, playing his part to the hilt.  
  
_ Spike looks at his surroundings through half-closed eyes. There's no sign of life. The moon shines dimly through the thickly clustered trees, and he decides to sit down at the lone..._

"You've said that."  
  
_ What?_  
  
"Lone. You've already used that word before."  
  
_ Oh for...okay, Mr. Picky! I'll use another adjective! Dammit, _ I'm_ the narrator! >_  
  
_...he decides to sit down on the only bench around and just...relax. He had just snacked off a teenager at the Bronze earlier, so his hunger was, for the moment, sated. He'd just sit, and think, and contemplate the future...or the past, as the case may be._

_What do soulless demons think of late at night? Do they have deep emotions and philosophies that no outsider may ever witness? What _really _goes on under that bleached blonde head of his?_

_ C'mon Spike...that's your cue! >_  
  
Blood. I like blood. Oh psh, of course I do, I'm a vampire! But no...I think the love of blood runs through my veins. Okay, dumb pun. But even as a human...I...well, they didn't call me William the Bloody for nothing! Torture. Also fun. Spikes and chains and whips and nails... Especially with all the nifty little devices they've come up since my day... Mmm...humans are such easy prey. Weak, pliable, warm and delicious. And I love how they scream and beg for mercy as I... >  
  
_ STOP! Spike! What are you doing to my story? What kind of sick, twisted mind do you have?_  
  
"I'm a vampire," he says crossly. "I like blood and mayhem. S'what I think about. Gimme a break, Wravyn!"  
  
_ ARGH! I should just end this right here and now... >_

_I...oh...good grief. Just...just keep walking. Keep walking and look dangerous. I'll think up something to save this story yet!_  
  
Spike gets up again and plasters a dangerous look on his face. Too bad there's no one around to see it.  
  
[Cue music]

The opening chords of a song begins to play, its haunting tune fitting with the mood of the scene.  
  
_You come out at night,  
that's when the energy comes   
and the dark side's light  
and the vampires roam..._  
  
"Stop. STOP!" The dangerous look has been replaced with one of frustration.  
  
_ What is it NOW, Spike?_  
  
"There is _ no way_ I'm going to have Sarah McLachlan singing for MY story! That's music suited for the bloody Slayer and her lap dog! Can't you find some decent music to..."  
  
_ Spike!_ _Will you just...just...ARGH! I give up! I GIVE UP! I can't do this anymore! I refuse to narrate ANY more stories! Oh God...I think I need some aspirin...I feel a headache coming on..._  
  
A door slams somewhere in the distance.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Pet?"  
  
"Wravyn? Talk to me! Um...I'm sorry for acting like an ungrateful bastard. You can play that damn song if you like. I won't complain anymore." He sucks in a deep breath and wishes desperately for a fag.   
  
"Hello? Wravyn? Where are you?"  
  
"C'mon, pet! I said I was sorry!" Spike's jaw clenches as he realizes he's alone.  
  
"Damn."  
  
He walks back to the bench he had just vacated and sits down heavily.  
  
"Now who's gonna finish my story?"  
  


  
FIN

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_   
**Old A/N: **I had so much fun writing this story! I got a little carried away, as you could probably tell. To Soul, whose challenge inspired this fic, I'm sorry for not including the quote! I really am! I was going to write a relationshippy Spike story and use that line, but this one INSISTED on being written. So my Cordy/Spike is gonna have to wait. I hear the groans coming from the back... Wravyn's gonna write ANOTHER Cordy fic? Well to you, Sir, or Madam (I can't tell from the front), I say YES I AM. So there.  
  
*L* Just kidding._

_**New A/N:** And that about wraps it up. Be kind, rewind. ...or at least make with the button and drop me a review! ;)_

  
  
  



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